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I think I might get fired soon. I had to remind my boss to send my paycheck--she said it just slipped her mind--and the other day she called me in to talk about customer complaints. What could I tell her? "No, I really did take their orders, they just forgot. All of them." On the other hand, I think most of the annoyed people forget why they were annoyed in the first place, so probably it's not as bad as it could be. Still, it doesn't look good. What if I come in tomorrow and nobody remembers I work there at all?

I was going through my stuff again--trying to find an old digital camera I know had some pictures in it--when I found something I do remember from my childhood. I mean, it's not like it's a definite reminder of my existence, it could belong to anybody, but it felt good to find it again.

My parents gave it to me when I was a kid. I'm not sure where they got it. Maybe they found it, or maybe one of their parents gave it to them; it doesn't really matter. There was a box, too, but I haven't found it yet.

I remember playing with this thing when I was a kid, actually. I mean, it's a rock, it doesn't do much, but it's a pretty cool-looking rock, you have to admit. I used to pretend it was a magic rock, like a fairy gave it to me or it came from another world and it had special powers. Or it let me have special powers. I don't really remember. I do remember that my parents didn't like it when I threw it at things, but it never actually broke, so maybe they didn't need to worry. I called it a sum-runner, I think. Not sure why. Maybe I got the name out of a movie or something.

Last night I dreamed I was somebody. The website in the ad didn't say anything about that--it just wanted to know if you dreamed about cities. Well, a city. I think my person lived there, but I can't remember what she looked like, or what her name was. Mostly she seemed kind of bored.

I have to say, if I'm going to have weird dreams, dreaming about being bored isn't high on the list.


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Sep. 6th, 2008 07:40 pm (UTC)
When I was a child--when I thought I was a child--I used to dream of sneaking into the attic of my house, forbidden territory by decree of my mother (who was not my mother in the dreams, but a pale and angular woman with fingers like a bouquet of daisies), and finding there all the lost toys and forgotten things of my earliest memories. I used to vaguely remember my father, who died shortly before I turned five, giving me something for my fourth birthday and there it was, in the attic: a rock with a little red eye, in a box that I could only open it if I twisted it inside-out (no other way I can describe it). That was my favorite toy, but there were others, too--weird floating shapes that hurt to look at too long and things like keys that unlocked doors to a floor above the attic, where more forgotten things--like storybooks I half-remembered from ancient bedtimes--were stacked up everywhere. And there were doors there that went to still more, higher floors. Each floor was less recognizable, but all oddly familiar, and some had windows that looked out upon ribbons of light around which worlds like strands of DNA corkscrewed around strips of glowing reality.

I kept going up and up and up until I finally reached the topmost floor. The roof was impossible--not only to describe, but just...impossible. I felt like I had reached the edge of the universe. And there was a window in which a long grey light strobed with a sickening clockwise search. I hid behind walls that weren't really there (I could feel them but I couldn't see them) and looked out the window at what looked like miles and miles of wreckage: the detritus of a trillion trillion years of thought and engineering. I still had the rock with the red ruby eye in my pocket and....

That's it. I awoke. That is, my eyes opened and there was my "familiar" bedroom all around me. But I felt like I was still dreaming--that here was the dream, and that, in "reality" (whatever that means), I am still hiding behind walls that are not there, waiting for all the dreams of my past to finally add up to something.

I still feel that way today.

Today's my birthday--my 35th. I found the rock from my dreams...in my pocket. It looks just like yours.
Nov. 30th, 2008 04:47 am (UTC)
You turned 35 and you have one of those things? That's rarely odd, and oddly rare. Have you been able to slide thru life without the tangles of time?

Definitely an anomaly, if not a singularity. You must be burning bright in the night land of time.

Nearly three months down the line, there's no way you can still be out there. Either some one came a looking for you, or you've skipped out of this collection of modalities all together.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )


old book
Hope Hodgson

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